#bsd reader

[todayweather]

Bungou Stray....cats?~

[tinkerleaf]

Not a Bother

a/n: I'm gonna be so real with you guys, this is kinda ass. I haven't written anything in forever, so my writing is apparently reflecting that. I did try to motivate myself to put something out, so I'm hoping this will get me to continue and improve a bit. genre: fluff, angst if you squint warnings: cursing, mentions of possible stalker, protective dazai, etc. w/c: 750ish synopsis: fyodor might have sent a stalker after you, and you try to hide it from dazai to keep him from stressing too much

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The heat of the mug in front of you warms your hand as you sit across from Osamu at the cafe. The conversation dulls as he continues to drone on about his last mission until he notices your lack of attention on him.

“Are you even listening to me?”

You nodded, which was mostly true, but he couldn’t help but stare right through you. It felt like he was scanning you, looking for something that he knew you wouldn’t tell him.

The buzz of your phone rips you from your thoughts. You knew what it could be and refrained from looking at the message. You had been receiving cryptic texts and voicemails for a couple of days now, and you were beginning to grow paranoid. Any other time, you’d tell Osamu immediately, but ever since Fyodor came into the picture, he’s become increasingly stressed. He doesn’t always show it, but you’ve known him long enough to see right through his calm exterior. You don’t want to push something else on him to worry about, especially not for your sake.

Your phone buzzes again, and you flip it over, beginning to grow annoyed. His eyes don’t leave your face.

“Looking for something?” you inquire in annoyance, taking another sip of your coffee.

His eyes narrow when another message hits your phone. He doesn’t fail to notice you purse your lips. “Someone’s popular~.”

You sigh. “It’s probably Kunikida looking for the case files from this morning.” Another buzz. You’re silently praying it isn’t who you think it is.

“Then why don’t you answer it?”

“…I don’t want to-”

“Why not?” His gaze pierced into you. You hated how calm he was when he interrogated you. It gently reminded you of how he obtained information in the Mafia.

“I don’t answer work-related messages on break.”

“Then I guess you won’t mind me reminding him of that, right?” He fishes through his coat pocket.

You pale. “Wait, don’t-”

Another buzz. His arm shoots for your phone. You try to grab it, but you fail to reach it before he does. You don’t even try to take it back because you know you won’t succeed.

As he searches through your texts, he sees the strange number that’s been harassing you the past few days. He skims through a string of threatening words as his expression becomes more and more serious. “Who the hell is this?”

You shook your head. “Not a clue.”

He scrolls to the top to find timestamps. “You've been getting these for three days? And you just didn’t even bother to talk to me about it? Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?”

“Because I can handle my own prob-”

“Fuck off! If that were the case, this would have been handled by now!” He somewhat raised his voice, and you were happy to be the only ones in the cafe at the moment. “I swear if this is more of Fyodor’s bullshit I’m gonna lose my mind.” He scoots over to get out of the booth, your phone sinking into his pocket. “Get up.”

“What are we doing?”

“Going upstairs to see if Ranpo can trace this number down.” He looks back at you. “You’re coming with. I’m not letting you out of my sight until this guy is dead.”

You follow him through the doors and back up the stairs to the hallway just before getting to the office. Before stepping closer to the agency’s doors, you tug him by the sleeve, catching his attention.

“Wait.”

“Hm?” He quirks a brow.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

His shoulders release a bit of their tension at your words, “I know.”

“You don’t know why, though.” You sigh. “I just don’t want to bother you with stuff like this when we have plenty more to worry about right now.”

He shakes his head, “You’re not a burden to me-”

“But you’re beyond stressed out. I don’t want to do that to you.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, as if he's thinking about what you said. As if maybe the sweet tone of your voice is what has Fyodor so interested in you. Or maybe the kind look in your eyes. If he had the chance, he’d lock you away in a heartbeat just to keep the rat and his men away from you.

“I mean what I said. You’ve never been a burden to me. Ever.”

And with that, he opened the office door, ready to handle anything that put you in harm’s way.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

[lysaisland]

better?

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊

You woke up in a still-dark room, with tangled legs and a cold nose. The window must still be open. You could hear your boyfriend’s soft breathing from behind you, each deep breath tickling the back of your neck.  The duvet must have slipped off during the night, your shoulder was freezing. You turned to switch shoulders, pulling the sheets up to your chin. The duvet crinkled as you moved into a comfortable position. Ahh, now this was better! You embraced the warmth. A low sigh. Your eyes drifted up to meet his face, barely making out his own open eyes in the blue dark.  “Aw sorry,” you whispered, “did I wake you?”  You felt an arm snake around your waist. He pulled you closer, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Warm, warm, warm was all that ran through your head.  “M’yes,” he mumbled into your ear. His voice was sleepy and a little hoarse, “y’not close enough.” You hummed in response. He turned to lay on his back, taking you with him. Chest to chest, breaths mingling, you let out a weak chuckle. Your arms found their place around his neck, as you laid your head on his shoulder. He still had a possessive arm around your waist. You heard the sheets rustle again as your boyfriend tugged them over the two of you. You pressed a firm kiss to his jaw. You could feel him tremble slightly at the gesture.  “Better?” “Better.”

➼ katsuki, touya & keigo

➼ atsumu, rintaro, hajime, tobio

➼ chuuya, ranpo

➼ ur faves <33

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊

[nakaira]

uni!au with dazai except you literally have killed someone and you don't know who to call except him.

[hugs4otters]

— “Every morning I long to hear your voice”

Characters :: Dazai x reader

Type :: angst

Notes :: took me so long to actually post something on here omg FISBEJ

Summary :: dazai mourning your death

They were like a ghost or is that follows Dazai every second a bittersweet reminder of something he will never have the privilege of having again for his lover’s body is now buried underground and cold, devoid of the life the cells used to hold.

The autumn leaves crunched with Dazai’s every step, the cemetery green grass was now covered during the autumn season with crumbling dead leaves. It has been 8 months since he last heard his beloved voice and the seasons was the only sign that time has moved for Dazai, the only thing that bought his grief driven mind out of it’s trace. He eventually got to the spot he was travelling to, moving the orange leaves aside to stop them from covering s/o’s forever bed.

He would normally drop off flowers but had no money to spare, the apartment the couple used to share littered with empty bottles of cheap sake and cans of crab. Dazai sat before the grave a name he used to call out so often etched on the lifeless concrete. He strangely didn’t tear up like the months before now just staring at the grave with lifeless eyes which nearly could be mistaken for a undead corpse.

He didn’t know what he was doing anymore so just spoke to his lover’s grave like they were still breathing in front of him no concern for the possibility of looking crazy. He might as well be crazy at this point right?

“I lost my wallet in the river again luckily the photo of us didn’t get lost at least though” He spoke voice solemn and a pathetic attempt of mimicking the life he used to have in his tone when he spoke to you.

Dazai was jealous of the dirt that covered your body, as selfish as this is, he wanted to be the one to die first, the one to be sleeping forever getting the luxury of being with you for his whole life, yet here he is. He was struggling going through this grief for a second time and he didn’t think he could anymore.

“Y’know every morning I awake up and long to hear your voice belladonna, I miss the warmth it had” He mumbled voice cracking at the seams.

divider credit :: cafekitsune

[xiansoria]

BSD Obsessive headcanons

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY 

Fyodor doesn't really fall in love. It takes a lot for him to even like somebody. Until he met you. It was almost immediate he knew that you were perfect. Perfect for him.

Ever since the first meeting, you now saw him everywhere. Was it all a coincidence? You didn't know. Your poise lured him, and now, he's obsessed. His love traps you, and so does yours trap him.

DOPPO KUNIKIDA

Kunikida's standards were shattered the moment he met you. You defied everything he ever knew. You were an unexplainable beauty, one that no painting could capture.

Your grace lead him in, and now, he wouldn't dare to escape it. His eyes narrow at the sight of you talking to someone who isn't him. Is it obvious? Maybe, maybe not.

He lives on your presence, drinking from the nectar of your life.

SAIGIKU JOUNO

Having this man obsess over you, let alone even be interested in you is terrifying. You can't last a day without noticing him around. How he wishes to see, so he can know how this lovely person looks like (as if he doesn't already). His senses catch everything about you. Your scent, your touch and your presence. He holds you with a gentle touch not known to anybody else. The air around you wavers with his soul, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

CHUUYA NAKAHARA

A man so calm nearly fell apart meeting you. You were Aphrodite to him, and he wouldn't dare escape your clutches. He basically worships the ground you step on, grabbing every opportunity to look at you.

It takes every fiber of his being to fight the urge to feel you, touch you. But he keeps these feelings inside. Afterall, he wouldn't want to scare his darling with his love wouldn't he?

[ma3mae]

As im writing on the continuation of knight! Tetchou x reader x Emperor! Dazai, ive noticed that its getting rly long (like prob 5-6k words rn or more 👹 didnt rly count) so -

[osamucide]

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

ִ ࣪𖤐 . MADE TO FUCKIN’ TAKE IT ?!

ʚଓ.˚ warnings : multi-fandom men x fem!reader. nsfw/smut, size kink/difference, overstimulation, degradation & mocking, chocking (light breath control), hair pulling, man handling, breeding kink, multiple of orgasms, multiple of rounds, dirty talk & praise & cock warming? not proof read & pretty much a quick fic.

BIG MEN WHO… don’t give a damn how much smaller you are, how your body trembles under them, barely able to handle the sheer size of their cock stretching you open. They’ll press you down, keep you in place, making you take every inch until you’re crying out, gasping, nails clawing at their back or the sheets—whatever you can grab onto as they ruin you.

“You can take it,” he mutters, voice thick with desire, watching the way your tight pussy struggles around him. “Fuck—look at that, baby. So damn tiny around me.” His big hands hold your hips, keeping you still as he sinks deeper, making sure you feel every vein, every inch of him stuffing you full.

He doesn’t wait. He doesn’t go slow. The moment he’s inside, he’s fucking into you, rough and deep, your tits bouncing with every sharp thrust. A low groan rumbles from his chest when he sees them, his hands coming up to grab at them, squeezing, his thumbs brushing over your soft nipples. “So fucking perfect,” he breathes, rolling one between his fingers, smirking when you whimper.

He loves seeing you like this—helpless under him, your clit throbbing as his cock pounds into you, stretching you in ways no one else ever could. One of his hands slides down between your legs, two fingers rubbing fast, forcing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you,” he grunts, leaning down, his weight pressing you into the mattress. “You’re gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? Good fucking girl.”

Your walls tighten, body arching, your moans turning to desperate cries as the pleasure builds too fast, too strong. “Too much—” you gasp, but he just laughs, his pace never faltering.

“You can handle it,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear before he bites down, making you whimper. “You were made for this. For me.”

His cock pushes even deeper, making you see stars. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, only groaning at the way your pussy clenches around him. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up,” he growls, snapping his hips harder, his grip on you almost bruising. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you’ll still be dripping with it tomorrow.”

Your mind is hazy, your body nothing but pleasure and overstimulation as his cock bullies your pussy into submission. His fingers don’t stop rubbing your clit, dragging you through another orgasm even as you cry out, thighs shaking.

“That’s it,” he breathes, voice wrecked. “Just like that, baby. You’re fucking perfect.”

And he’s not done. Not even close.

Your legs tremble as he keeps pounding into you, his cock stretching you past your limit, but he doesn’t slow down—not when you’re this wet, this tight, this perfect for him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something, anything, but it only makes him grin, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he presses you further into the mattress.

“Y-You're too big,” you whimper, voice shaky, lips parted as you struggle to catch your breath. Your pussy clenches around him, your body betraying you, and his grin only widens.

“Too big?” he repeats, mocking, one hand gripping your thigh and pushing it up to fuck into you even deeper. “You keep saying that, but your pussy doesn’t wanna let me go.”

You let out a sob when he grinds his hips against yours, the head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside you over and over until you're trembling beneath him. Your tits bounce with every ruthless thrust, and he watches, mesmerized, his hands sliding up to cup them roughly, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. “Poor little thing, getting fucked too good?”

Your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed by the way his cock stretches your walls, the way his fingers keep circling your clit, sending shockwaves through your already overstimulated body. But then his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just pressing enough to make you open your eyes and look at him.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he orders, his grip tightening just a little, making your breath hitch. His cock pulses inside you, thick and heavy, dragging along every inch of your sensitive walls as he picks up the pace. “I wanna see that pretty face when I ruin you.”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan, but he sees it—sees the way your body shakes, the way your pussy clenches around him like it never wants to let go. His smirk grows.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he groans, his voice rough, his thrusts turning almost brutal. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come all over my cock.”

Your body obeys before your mind catches up, your back arching as pleasure crashes through you, your pussy squeezing him tight. A broken moan escapes your lips, and he curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release.

“Fuck—” his voice is strained, almost desperate, his cock throbbing inside you. He buries himself as deep as he can go, pushing past the tight clench of your walls, his pace growing erratic. “Gonna fill you up, baby. You want that?”

You nod frantically, your mind foggy with pleasure, your body still shaking. “Y-Yeah,” you whisper, voice hoarse. “Want it.”

That’s all it takes. He groans, low and guttural, his hips jerking as he spills inside you, filling you with thick ropes of his cum. He stays there for a moment, buried to the hilt, breathing heavy, before his thumb lazily circles your clit again, making you jolt.

“You thought I was done?” he chuckles, his cock still hard inside you. His grip on your thighs tightens as he pulls back, teasing you with slow, shallow thrusts. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m just getting started.”

Your whole body feels boneless, trembling under him, but he doesn’t let you rest—not when your pussy is still clenching around him, so warm, so tight, still desperate for more even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet.

“You’re shakin’, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his fingers over your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you feel the way his cock is still buried inside you, so deep it almost hurts. “But look at that—your greedy little pussy’s still suckin’ me in.”

You whimper, trying to squirm away, but his big hands grab your hips, pinning you down with ease. He tsks, amusement thick in his voice. “Where d��you think you’re going, sweetheart?” His grip tightens, fingers pressing bruises into your soft skin. “You wanted my cock so bad—now you’re gonna take it.”

Your breath catches when he pulls back, teasing, letting only the thick head of his cock stretch you open before slamming all the way back in, knocking the air from your lungs. Your legs shake, another weak whimper slipping past your lips, but he only smirks, watching the way your tits bounce with every brutal thrust.

“Fuck—so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, reaching up to grab a handful of your hair, tugging your head back so you have no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, hungry. “You feel that, baby? Feel how deep I am? Like I was made to fuck you like this.”

You can’t speak, can’t think—just moan as he rolls his hips, grinding deep, the fat head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside you over and over. His free hand moves to your throat, not squeezing, just pressing, keeping you right where he wants you.

“You like it rough, don’t you?” he mutters, his voice dripping with amusement. “All fucked-out and dumb on my cock.” His grip on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make your head spin. “Bet you can’t even talk right now.”

He’s right. You can’t. Your lips part, a broken moan escaping, and he chuckles, smug. “That’s what I thought.”

Your pussy clenches around him, your clit throbbing, and he notices—of course he notices. His other hand slides between your legs, two fingers circling your swollen clit in tight, teasing motions.

“Yeah? You like when I talk to you like that, huh?” His voice is low, teasing, his fingers moving faster. “Such a desperate little thing.”

Your body is too sensitive, too overwhelmed, but you can’t stop yourself from rolling your hips up into his touch, chasing another high. He groans, watching you, his cock twitching inside you.

“Look at you—so fuckin’ needy for me,” he mutters, leaning down until his lips brush against your ear. “Gonna come again, aren’t you? So easy. So fuckin’ easy for me.”

Your mind blanks as the pleasure slams into you, your pussy squeezing him tight, making him curse under his breath. His hips snap against yours faster, rougher, his cock bullying your tight, wet walls as he chases his own release.

“Shit—gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he growls, his thrusts turning erratic, harder, deeper. “Gonna pump you so full of my cum, you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You cry out, barely able to handle the overstimulation, your body trembling beneath him as he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he spills inside you. His grip on your throat loosens as he groans, his breath ragged, “Fuckin’ hell finally I bred this pussy good.”

𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈 ：MYDEI , Jing Yuan, Blade?, Xavier, Mr Reca, phainon?, Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, TOJI, sylus?, Geto?, Nanami, NIKOLAI, SUKANAAAA, Wriothesley?, Calcharo + your favs! ❤︎︎

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[sqtorux]

you cunningly rock your hips while sitting on his lap and he's STRUGGLING.

and you're so sly knowing exactly what you're doing to him. you can see him visibly struggling, his jaw clenched hard but you have no intention of stopping.

"isn't it so hot guys?" you adjust your seating, grinding against his erection subtly. your circle of friends agree but he's not listening or contributing to the discussion about some temperature.

you push further bravely upon seeing how desperate he was and move up a notch, gently brushing your hands on his rock hard dick.

he exhales a breath of hot hair, tickling the back of your neck and your confidence splurges. you boldly rock your hips again, just one more and you're done — you promise yourself.

but just as you were about to execute your amazing idea, big firm hands stop your motions short. they hold against your hips, immobilising you in place.

he leans closer into the crook of your neck, grunting softly "you're gonna regret that."

"regret what?" you look at him innocently.

he huffs out an annoyed scoff as his hot breath tingles the side of your neck "lets see how slick you can be when i have my way with you later."

gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, nakahara chuuya, tetcho suehiro, michizo tatchihara, shota aizawa, dabi, akaashi keiji, tsukishima kei, wakatoshi ushijima, levi ackerman + your contributions?

[tinkerleaf]

Tape 001 - OSAMU DAZAI

a/n: I'm excited to put this out! I've never explored this concept before so I hope it comes off as good as it does in my head. This will be the first in the series. w/c: 1.4k m.lists: face files, main m.list warnings: cursing, small depiction of violence, interrogation genre: angst? but not like super sad or anything

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

-Start of Recording

The room is pitch black before a blinding light flashes the respondent. He can’t see very well, but he doesn’t need to. He is placed in a metal chair that locks him in by his wrists and ankles. He struggles but quickly realizes he can’t move.

A cough is heard before the interviewer speaks, “Mr. Osamu Dazai, is that correct?”

“Who are you?” he questions, his eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness of the light. “Where am I?”

“My apologies. I should have introduced myself. My name is Dr. Arthur Cartwright of the TimeSpace Preservation Association. The reason you are here with me in this hypothetical space is because you are a close contact to █████ ████████, an anomaly of this timeline.”

Dazai’s lips parted at the mention of her name. “What makes you think I’d tell you anything? And that’s if I knew anything.”

Dr. Cartwright presses a button on his computer, and suddenly the light in Dazai’s face gradually changes color to a deep blue. The pupils of his eyes suddenly become dilated.

“Trying to set the mood or something?”

“Sir, I want you to tell me what happened to your mother.”

Without even realizing, Dazai responds. “She died when I was born.” His mouth is agape in shock, and he struggles once more against the straps around him. “What the hell is going on?!”

The doctor jots down a few details on his clipboard, muttering to himself. “It seems that the validity scanner works correctly.” He turns back to his current captive, “Forgive me, that was simply a test.” Dazai was so confused that he couldn’t even fathom a response. His breaths become forced. “This device will allow us to avoid any inaccuracies in your answers and extract the data we need directly from your brain without any invasive procedures.”

“As if this isn’t intrusive.”

“I understand your discomfort sir, but I’ll have you know that you will not remember any of this interaction once you leave. You are located in a space in between timelines that serves no purpose. In simpler terms, your life is on ‘pause' until your return.”

To Dazai, this feels like an odd dream. He feels almost hazy, as if he’d had a drink. However, his mind has lingered around the mention of her name from the beginning. “What are you gonna do to her?”

“We have no intentions of harming her. We just have some questions for you, and we will be on our way.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair not to answer a few questions of mine first?”

The doctor pauses but concedes. “I suppose. Go ahead.”

“You mentioned earlier that she was an…’anomaly’. What did you mean by that?”

“By standards of the TPA, she is filed as such because she remains in your timeline without any major damages to its structure.”

“So…”

“So she isn’t supposed to be there. Her timeline is number…” He flips through a few of his documents. “3142025. You are from 7925076. I’m sure you can see the issue here.”

“Does it really matter-”

“Of course it matters. When people are moved around, it destabilizes reality until it shatters. However, it hasn’t, and I’m trying to figure out why.”

Dazai stares at the stranger in front of him, his finger tapping against the cool metal. He tries to look around, but there’s nothing to look at. His ability is useless in this situation. “Then let’s get this over with.”

“Thank you for your cooperation. I’ll start simple. Who is █████ ████████?”

“She’s a member of the Armed Detective Agency.”

Scribbling is heard from the other side of the desk, “Who is she to you?”

“She’s my best friend.” His expression is blank, letting the machine mentally yank his thoughts out. “She’s also my partner at the agency.”

“How did you meet her?”

“When I was in the Port Mafia, my boss introduced me to her. He was acquainted with her father.”

The doctor pauses. “Did you ever come across her father?”

Dazai shrugs. “Here and there. Kanan wasn’t exactly important to me or my job, so we never had much interaction outside of work.”

“What was his role?”

“He was one of the five executives.”

“From my understanding, he passed away, correct?” Dazai nods.

“How?”

“He was assassinated by enemies of the of the mafia.”

His eyes narrow. “Interesting…I’ll go back to █████ ████████. What was her role in the mafia?”

“She either assisted with interrogations or trained for one of the command units, typically with Chuuya.” A look of annoyance flashes across his face.

“Chuuya Nakahara?” Dazai nods. “Why him?”

“Their abilities had similar components. While Chuuya could manipulate gravity, she was able to move things telekinetically. It made sense to put them together at the time.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Pissed.” Doctor Cartwright wonders if he has stopped breathing. He is completely still.

“Do you need a break?”

“No.” His gaze hasn’t moved from the surface of the desk since the interview began.

“Just let me know if you do.” He clears his throat. “Why would that bother you the way it did?”

He bites his lip, but it doesn't stop him from answering the question. “I didn’t want to have to share my only friend-dammit!” He was trying to fight the device.

The doctor flips through his notes. “Okay, we’re getting off topic.” He writes some things down. “Tell me more about her ability. You mentioned telekinetics.”

“Right. She’s great at picking locks with it. I’ve seen her crush someone’s windpipe when we were in a bind once, but she doesn’t really use it for that anymore…” He trails off.

“What does she usually use it for?”

“Typically, scanning for information. She’d explained it before; it’s like moving someone’s brain around to get information. Sound familiar?” His sarcastic tone doesn't faze the doctor.

“Surprisingly, yes.” More scribbles.

“It’s one of the main reasons she became an asset to the mafia, aside from her more combatative attributes.”

“Why did she leave the Port Mafia?”

“Kanan’s death really shook her up, but I couldn’t blame her for it. I had a feeling she wouldn’t last much longer afterwards.” He took a deep breath. “When it was confirmed by the boss that she was erased from the organization, I was afraid she’d hurt herself, so I kept an eye on her for a while.”

“Like…stalking her?”

The ghost of a smile formed on his face. “Not exactly. It didn’t take me long to track her down, but when I did, I was going to let her go.”

“…Right. Was that when she obtained a job at the Armed Detective Agency?”

He nodded. “About a year or so later. I joined after her a year later.”

“Why did it take you so long?”

“My reputation as the Port Mafia’s youngest executive wasn’t exactly something I could just waltz into the agency with. I went into hiding for a little while.”

“While still watching █████?”

He nods. “Not in a weird way, though.”

“I’m sure. When was the last time you saw her?”

“At work. Her desk is next to mine.”

“I guess it makes sense for your new boss to put you two together since you share a past. What was her reaction to seeing you again? After all that time, I mean.”

“She was startled at first, but she came around.”

“Came around..?”

“She gave me a really big hug, and I felt everything from the past few years just drip off of me. The Presdient called her into the office with Kunikida, and when I saw her I-I think- ” A stray tear falls down his face. “-I just felt so…fuck!”

“Let’s take a second.” Cartwright turns the light off and Dazai’s pupils go back to normal.

Dazai closes his eyes as he heaves, his stress levels exponentially high. “Is this enough for you? Is this what you wanted?”

“Hey, we’re almost done-”

“Almost? I’m getting sick of being probed.” He pushes against the restraints.

“Dammit…” Cartwright quickly powers everything back on. He stands up, leaning both hands on the table. “The quicker we get through this, the quicker you can forget this ever happened. Do you know who exactly killed Kanan ████████?”

“I already told you it-”

“That’s not true, though. Who told you it was an enemy attacker?”

“She did?”

“Then, who told her that?”

“How the fuck would I know that!?” Dazai was growing more frustrated than he already was. “Why does that even matter if this is about her?”

Dr. Cartwright slumps back down, realizing that Dazai wasn't going to give him the answers he needed. He reaches into his pocket for a pen. He points the end of it towards his face, “Thank you for your contributions, Mr. Dazai. You’re free to go. You’ll wake up exactly where you were extracted from. It’ll be as if nothing ever happened.”

With a flash, Osamu Dazai disappeared from the room.

-End of Recording

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[livelaughlovesubs]

Head empty, only thinking about my fav’s creaming on my fingers.

It was such a nice way to get him all horny and messy for you in public, without too many risks. All you had to do was sneak your hand past his waistband, down that soft ass and inside his underwear. Next thing on the list was to tease that pretty boy and watch him stutter during an important conversation. His nails dug into his palms, face heating up as he fake coughs, trying to cover up his gasps as he excuses himself. Glaring at you but not slapping your hand away~

Or in some random bathroom stall! Make him bend over with his hands on the door as you fuck him on your fingers, purring at him to stay quiet if he doesn’t want to get caught. Calling him a dirty pervert when he fails and moans out loud. You say that, but you are obviously the one who wants to get exposed! Just to see him cry out of humiliation… even so he can’t stop begging for more while pushing his hips back ��︎

Though it wasn’t only fun in public. It was also a spectacle when he’d straddle your lap, arms wrapped around your neck in a deadly grip. Those kiss-swollen lips right next to your ear while he whimpered for you to fuck him harder, to please put it in. Teary eyes with a dazed look as you made him cum the third time that day with only your fingers. Mocking him for being such a needy whore, creaming all~ over himself like some virgin. How much longer were you going to overstimulate him?

Maybe if you are feeling extra mean, you’d make him finger himself on your shared bed. Sitting in front of him and watching as you gave him commandos. Telling him to spread his legs more, to push another finger inside, or to beg more lewdly. At first he was so shy, so hesitant to show you all these embarrassing parts. Yet after some time he couldn’t think of anything else but the heat in his core, the need to be filled and fucked until he forgets his name ♡♡～

Wet squelching sounds echoing through the room as his whined out prayers reached your ears, hearts in his pupils and fingers knuckles deep inside his abused hole. He felt so tired, his eyelids so heavy, as if he was on the verge of passing out. A melting expressing plastering his blushing face, with glossy eyes and shiny tears. His body was trashing around, squirming and shaking with pure desire. And that useless dick was squirting with his precum. At the same time, he was begging you with such a sweet and debased voice. Pleading for your dick, and for you to absolutely wreck his insides.

“Please, plea~se..! Hnnghhh, I need you so bad, so- ahh♥︎ so fucking bad…! Ngh, f-fuck me, ruin me ♡♥︎♡”

Your favourites~

[angelsrcute]

I suck his dick, it's big, it's very-very big! ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd make you cockwarm him while he works, the door unlocked, his dick so close to your g-spot but he wouldn't let you move! hands keeping your waist in place as his dick keeps you all stuffed n warm.

“I'll be done soon, sweetheart, you can wait a little more right? So, be a good girl n stop movin’ so much.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd praise you for sucking him off so good, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you try not to gag on his huge dick. Guiding your tongue on his dick, gently holding your hair, shooting thick ropes of cum in your mouth.

“God, your mouth feels so good, my sweets. Keep goin’ alright? looking so pretty f’ me.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd taunt n insult you while you gag on his dick, roughly grabbing your hair and making you take him fully. Your mascara n lipstick all ruined, eyes rollin’ back when he cums in your mouth. :(

“You look like some cheap whore like this, y'know. I bet you're getting wet from me degrading you, hm? As expected.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd fuck you in a mating press, his big cock stretching your insides, hitting your womb. Pressin’ his hand on your tummy to feel his dick in you, making you whine. Your tummy already full from how much he cums, you definitely can't go for another round.. + he's gonna fuck you till you need a wheelchair.

“It won't fit? Don't worry, darlin’. Gonna make your cunt remember my dick, don't worry! Even if it does forgets, I'll just fuck ya again.”

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who'd fuck you till your dumb n can only think of him and his dick if you do decide to act all bratty or he'd just tie you up n put a vibrator on your clit and watch as you squirm around trying to get a release, but he turns off the vibrator just when you're gonna cum. :(

"Should've thought before being like that, what did you expect, princess? acting all flirty with that random guy, trying to make me jealous."

◟♡ ˒ ʾʾ — who’re either super experienced from sleeping around or just fucking virgin losers, walkin’ around with that big ass dick in his pants.

— FYODOR, Leona, Dazai, NIKOLAI, Beel, Chuuya, Diavolo, SEBEK, Lucifer, Malleus, MAMMON, Jack, Blade, Neuvillette, Sampo, IDIA, Zhongli, Scara, CHILDE, TOJI, Jing yuan, Gojo, Sukuna, NANAMI, Dr. ratio, Wriothesley, ALHAITHAM, CATER + your favs.

[underpaidimmortal]

something something breaching containment

[sahisan]

— bsd twitter links / visuals ! part... multiple !

featuring . dazai, mykola, kunikida, akutagawa, yosano + bonus (separate).

notices: fem bodied reader. make sure to log in to twitter ! i dont fw whatever the notes in the posts say so please ignore them ! this part includes multiple chars because my inbox has quite a few reqs of visuals with different chars so instead of spamming them i decided to make them into one single post. i couldn't help myself with the bonus sorry chat...

— dazai.

handjob while he plays video games.

picking up his pace ! make sure to keep up <3

he can be pretty rough when he's not lazy wants to be.

↑ some more.

choking you while fingering you. ughh i need.

llllloves using toys on you. he's so mean about it too.

on the agency's couch...

absolutely undeniably dazai coded.

— mykola.

he loves it messy. or making you a mess, you choose.

changing positions every minute cause he wants to try literally everything.

surely he can go deeper. and faster.

anywhere? anywhere.

loves dressing you up.

↑ and himself as well.

— kunikida.

loves having you give him a titjob.

sucking him off.

he is absolutely folding when you hug him during sex.

slow n deep.

he finally fucks you on his desk.

he's already trembling once in your arms.

— akutagawa.

please give him a handjob. he'll fold.

tries to keep his mouth occupied because he's not sure where to put it.

hugging him while riding him.

he's so gentle like you're porcelain.

this. just kiss him and cockwarm him and he's gone.

his everyday routine.

cuddly on the side <3

does not have a breeding kink however loves just filling you up.

morning.

— yosano.

riding her in reverse cowgirl.

sucking her strap while she holds your hair back for you <3

overstimming you with a vibrator.

↑ and making you wear her skirt while at it.

quickie in the agency's restroom when you're needy.

riding her.

fingering you n choking you.

sucking on her tits when she comes home after a tiring day.

+ bonus !

— chuuya.

after aftercare.

↑ some more.

you're both needy at work so he takes you to the pm headquarters' restroom to take care of it.

slapping your ass & rewarding you after.

this w him is justtt.

he decides to take the initiative.

part 1 for — dazai / chuuya / fyodor.

(ignore) requests that were for these characters utc !

[miiyas]

boyfriends who hold your hair back while you wash the clay mask off you face, slowly check off the mental list of the things you do during your monthly ‘skin care to the max.’ you’re exfoliating, washing, drying, smearing on a clay mask, washing again, and guasha-ing, a special thing you do once a month. it’s a long, tedious event, but it’s a reward you grant yourself when the time was right.

but despite the long process, your boyfriend, your oh-so loving boyfriend, holds your hair back and tucks in loose and stray strands of hair behind your ear as you splash water on your face, gently washing off whatever is on your face. by the first twenty minutes, he can feel the balls of his feet grow sore, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he asks if you’re done yet, only to see you turn your head with loose debris on your chin, cheeks, eyes, and forehead. he gives out a chuckle before letting out a ‘nevermind.’

but he isn’t done after the sink, no, he’s there holding all your lotions, toners, guasha, even a bottle of water, sitting hunched over on a chair as he watches you gently work with your face. there’s a soft look in his eyes that never fails to remain as he passes you things before you even ask, placing things back down after you hand items back to you, tidying up before you can even realize.

by the time you’re done with everything, you come to consciousness with the jolts of pain on your heels and how your back gives out ever so slightly. but not to worry because despite it being a little past the time he’s supposed to be in bed, he’ll carry you and tuck you under the covers, even if it’s a quick seven steps away. a gentle kiss would be placed on the corners of your lips as he crawls into bed, laying beside you with arms wrapping around your waist. his nose tucks between the gap of your neck, inhaling your scent before placing a feather light kiss, eyes fluttering shut and lips still pressed onto your skin, a gentle, content smile tugging the corners of his cheeks.

SATORU GOJO, ryomen sukuna, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, KENTO NANAMI, toji fushiguro, SUGURU GETO (jjk), CHUUYA NAKAHARA, ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, osamu dazai, fyodor dostoevsky (bsd), TOBIO KAGEYAMA, miya twins, TETSURO KUROO, HAJIME IWAIZUMI, rintaro suna, (haikyuu), + ur favs !!